Finally Home
by c0me-on-skinnylove
Summary: Castle's just getting back from his six week long book tour and he's just itching to see them.


It's around 11:30 pm when Castle unlocks the door to their loft. He's exhausted. His book tour lasted a good six weeks (six weeks of cold, scratchy, and empty hotel beds) and he hated every second of it. Castle kicks off his shoes by the door, drops his duffle bag while he's at it—he'll clean it up in the morning. He bypasses the kitchen, even though he's a little hungry. He just hasn't seen them in weeks and he's itching to lay eyes on them.

Castle treads carefully to the back hallway. It would be so like Kate to wake up because a measly floor board decides to creak. He peaks into their bedroom, confirming his suspicions that she is indeed asleep. He knows she tried her best to wait up for him (she's still on top of the covers, after all). He closes their door as quietly as possible and slowly makes his way over to their son's room.

The room is dark, except for the small glint of a nightlight by the crib. Castle steps into the room cautiously; he just wants a glimpse at his son, even if he's asleep. Castle chances a look over the side of the crib and he is instantly met with his son's shining eyes looking up at him.

"Hey, little guy," Castle whispers to his son, resting a hand on the baby's stomach, completely dwarfing him.

Castle reaches for the baby monitor by the crib and flips it off.

"We don't want to wake up mommy, now do we?" he asks his son, knowing full well that he isn't going to get an answer from him.

Castle starts to rub circles with his thumb over his son's chest, hoping that the action will lull him back to sleep. But his little eyes keep staring up at his father. Castle wonders what he might be thinking. Is he memorizing my face? Does he see how happy I am to see him? Wait, he recognizes me right?

Castle shakes that last thought from his mind. Of course his own son recognizes him (he wasn't gone for that long). The little boy starts to move more under his hand, getting a bit fussy. Castle doesn't want him to start crying so he lifts him up, his left hand supporting his son's bottom, while his right hand rests on the baby's back keeping him safely held against his broad chest. Castle plays his fingers gently against his son's back as he walks out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. A movement as simple as walking seems to calm his baby boy down, luckily.

The city lights stream in through the drafty windows of the loft, creating shadows in the living area. Castle walks over to the fridge, his son now settling himself (quite comfortably) under his father's chin. Postcards hanging on the fridge catch Castle's eye and he can't help but smile at the sight of them. Taking his hand off his son's back he removes the two postcards on the fridge to have a better look.

The first one is the one he sent her from Minneapolis; the front of the postcard is a picture of the Ferris wheel that can be found in the Mall of America. He thought it would be different, to send her postcards from each city he visited, and write a little something on the back of each. Of course the postcards were not the only means of communication between the two of them during their time apart, but he's a romantic, and he thought the cards were a nice added bonus. Castle turned the postcard over to see what he wrote.

_Dear beautiful wife and the little creature that steals her affections (no, I'm not that jealous),_

_I'm sure you miss me dearly by now—three days absent of my sparkling personality and rapier wit—but never fear, I will be sending you postcards from every city I visit. _

_Now, dearest Kate, you might notice the Ferris wheel on the front of this postcard, and you may be wondering why I chose this specific one. Well, to put it simply, I looked at the overabundance of postcards—already dreading this kind of life changing decision—and this one just jumped out at me. _

_Don't roll your eyes at me, love. Give me a chance to explain why. Flashback to a little over a year and a half ago (before our baby boy was born) to Coney Island, when you didn't want to go, but you caved because you love me. I'm a kid when it comes to amusement parks (as you know), and we ended up playing games—your competitive side rearing its beautiful head—and we stuffed our faces with funnel cakes, ice cream, fresh squeezed lemonade and honestly, Kate I fell in love with you a hundred more times that night. _

_Later that evening, after we sat through that ridiculous magic show (the only reason I lasted was because your hand on my thigh distracted me the entire time), you asked to go on the Ferris wheel. Once we were settled in our seats, you snuggled up close to my side (I love that side of you…no, wait… I love all sides of you). I had my arm wrapped around your shoulder, my fingers drawing meaningless patterns on your upper arm and I felt your lips kiss my neck as you snuggled closer (if that's even possible), your hand resting on my thigh again. We didn't say much, just reveled in each other's company, enjoying the warm breeze coming off of the water. I remember you raising your head slightly, catching my eye, and you…God, Kate you made my breath catch. You let me see it all in that moment and that's when I knew you were ready; that we were ready for the next big adventure. _

_A night I'll never forget and ten months later, our baby boy was born._

_I love you both and miss you both, so very much. _

_-Rick Castle _

_p.s. It seems I've accidentally signed this like one of my books, (side effect of being on a book tour) but I'll have you know, there's way more love behind this signature. _

Castle places the postcard on the counter, rubs his thumb over the picture of the Ferris wheel. I guess this one was a favorite of hers, he decides (he can see why). He picks up the second postcard that also hung on the fridge, kissing the top of his now sleeping son's head; he turned the card over to read it.

_Dear love of my life,_

_Guess where I am? Denver, Colorado. Now, I realize that the picture I chose is not the most striking of them all, but I thought it fit best for what Denver reminds me of. _

_I'm guessing you know where I'm going with this. Our second skiing trip, that didn't end with any broken bones. That was a fun weekend (and I didn't even show off that much). But skiing wasn't the main event for me. What stood out for me were the couple of days before we drove up the mountain to Vale. Our flight landed, right in the middle of a snow storm. It was so unplanned and you ended up dragging us to a shady motel, giving me that look that I basically read as 'deal with it', so I kept my mouth shut. The room was small, but not as dirty as I pictured it would be. There was that small TV on the only dresser in the room and the bed was covered in that puke green comforter that I immediately tore off and threw to the corner of the room. I caught you watching me, giving me that adorable smirk, the one where I can't resist but to kiss it off of your face. _

_We ended up ordering in and watching a silent movie—I can't remember the name at the moment—because we were barely paying attention. It was just you, me, and a few cartons of Chinese food, trying to keep warm. We didn't even reach the end of the movie before all of the once innocent touching couldn't be ignored any longer (I hope the mailman is having fun reading this). _

_The next morning we woke up, grabbed a bag of chips from the vending machine, and drove the somewhat drivable roads up the mountain._

_The point to all of this reminiscing is that I wanted to thank you. Thank you for always grounding me, thank you for reminding me that the little things are usually the things that matter the most. That we didn't need champagne and chocolate covered strawberries or 1200 count silk sheets (do those even exist?) to have a nice time. All we need is each other and I know that sounds sappy, but it's true. I will follow you to the ends of the Earth, Kate, through thick and thin. We might disagree, have our share of pet peeves when it comes to one another, fight over our son's affections, but that's life and I'm going to spend the rest of it with you. And yes, you will still be beautiful when we're old and gray—you can't change my mind, Kate— I will still try relentlessly to sleep with you then and now. _

_I miss you guys,_

_Castle _

Castle places the postcard back on the counter and walks his sleeping son back to his bedroom. Some of the postcards got so long (he blames the writer in him) that he had to transfer them onto a piece of paper and place the postcard and letter into an envelope before he mailed it to her. What can he say, that woman will forever be his muse.

His son is dead weight, when he places him back into the crib and Castle silently congratulates himself on getting him back to sleep (Kate is usually the master of that). He turns the monitor back on and then tip toes out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind him. Then tunnel vision takes over and he just has to see Kate.

She's still sleeping when Castle enters their room. She's sleeping on her side, facing the door. He looks down at her sleeping form, runs a finger reverently over her cheek. He can't blame her for falling asleep. She insists that she can do it all; working part time at the precinct and raising their son. It doesn't surprise him in the least, that's just his Kate. She tries to hide how tired she really is, but she can't fool him. She can't hide the tired look looming behind her eyes. He is constantly thinking of new ways to get her to rest. He has even stolen their son right out of her arms and declared it's time for some much needed father/ son bonding time. She knows what he's doing, smiles while shaking her head at him. But she lets him because they're partners; they will always have each other's back, no matter what life throws at them; his hand now lightly stroking her hair.

She stirs, finally feeling his presence. She mumbles his name while reaching blindly for the hand in her hair. She pulls—and his body attuned to hers—goes willingly. He settles next to her, his head now resting on his folded arm. They're now level with each other, so his eyes are able to take in every inch of her face. Kate doesn't open her eyes, but he knows that she's awake. His left hand hooks around her waist, bringing her body right up against his, her head now tucked under his chin. She shifts, bringing her left arm lying against the bed, to her chest. The other one now slung over his shoulder, her fingers drawing lazy circles on the back of his neck.

"I missed you, Castle," She murmurs into the night air. He tightens his hold on her, and breathes her in.

"I missed you too, Kate," he utters. "I missed both of you." His breathing begins to slow, he should really get up and change out of these day old clothes, he thinks.

Kate's nose snuggles deeper into his neck. She must be so tired; he decides to wait until she's asleep before getting up. Then he'll change and shift them both under the covers.

He closes his eyes, can't help how the rise and fall of Kate's chest against him always seems to soothe him.

Castle ends up falling asleep first, with his wife finally beside him.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviews are like hugs.


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